Docendo discimus
by Diogenes the Cynical Greek
Summary: Lt. Samuel Chodkiewicz was a skilled if unambitious officer of the Alliance Navy. After being chosen to instruct at a joint training program between the Systems Alliance and the Turian Hierarchy, Sam finds himself at odds with his counterpart, a driven Turian officer who views her newest assignment as just another inconvenience to overcome.
He swore that if his grandfather could see him now, he would be having kittens.

Over there in the corner.

Thankfully Captain Francis Chodkiewicz was not alive to witness his grandson, 1st Lieutenant Samuel Chodkiewicz be hand selected to dish out military secrets to the _split-jaws_.

Or at least that is how his grandfather would have described it.

In reality, Samuel Chodkiewicz, a commissioned officer of the Alliance Navy had found himself assigned to a joint species training program between the Systems Alliance and the Turian Hierarchy. Somewhat daunting considering it was a six month assignment.

Indeed this was just one of the many ways that the two governments had been experimenting with mending the rift between the two species. Also the Alliance Brass had reasoned that learning something from the highly militaristic race which provided the largest fleet to Citadel Space couldn't hurt.

He found it hard to argue with that logic, and oh he had tried very hard to.

Not that he _disliked_ the Turians in particular, he just didn't want be involved in any volatile incident which unfortunately was not _unlikely_ to occur considering the history between the two species. He wasn't a big fan of conflict, which perhaps made his choice of career seem rather an odd choice.

Nevertheless, he had been assigned to the senior staff of Colonel Sarah Shan, a tough, gruff, though not disliked commander, very by the books and a veteran of the First Contact War. A debateable choice of officer to oversee the Alliance Personnel in this endeavour, though not without merit considering she _did_ have a working knowledge of both Alliance and Turian military capabilities. Add to the fact that she too was an exceptional soldier and that would likely garner some respect from the Turians, it is easy to understand why she was entrusted with this responsibility.

Well, that and Admiral Ahern might come across as a bit senile.

Sam himself would be one of the key instructors over the course of the program, specifically as the Alliance Tactical Operations Instructor. A pretty impressive title which essentially meant that he would be teaching cadets to think first before they go in guns blazing. An almost impossible task at times.

So he now found himself in _Campus Martius,_ a compound specifically constructed to provide the necessary facilities catering to both the Turian and Human cadets, located on the surface of Elysium. More specifically he was on the smaller of two landing pads that the entire facility boasted, waiting for the arrival of the lead Turian instructors.

In retrospect, Elysium was an intriguing choice, not only was it a human colony world in which almost half the population was alien, but it was also the site of the famous Skyllian Blitz of '74. No doubt chosen for the Alliance to impress on the Turians their own capabilities (and successes).

Well, that and since the Turians would more or less be the 'dominant' partner in this whole endeavour possessing the 'superior' military that they did, the Alliance wanted any concession that they could get. The home ground was the best they could hope for. Still from the sounds of things, it looked like the Turians _were_ amicable to compromise in some instances.

Though that didn't serve too well to alleviate Sam's misgivings. Today was the day and it seemed that the gravity of the situation was now finally striking him in full. The more diplomatic part of him said try to make the most of the situation.

The other part however said screw everything and leg it.

The rumbling of a shuttle stole his attention. Too late to back out now considering the Turians were now arriving. True enough as he gazed up at the overcast sky, he could see the rapidly approaching 'feathered' shape of a Turian shuttle, breaking through the cloud cover. He noticed that Turian ship design tended to resemble their own biology, what with the plates and feathered appearance and everything. It was easy to see why _bird-face_ was one of the several colourful names humanity had come up with for the species.

"Deep breath Lieutenant."

His eyes shot to the side towards the major, one of the several occupants to the charming landing pad they had now found themselves on. A middle aged woman, lines creased what may well have once been quite an attractive face, with her darker skin tone, and thick, straight black hair now tied neatly into a bun. Her eyes, whilst once being youthful and full of energy, now betrayed a deep wisdom that only age seemed to impart. Realising that he had somehow neglected to breathe, he quickly took a deep breath. All the while her gaze had not broken from their approaching guests.

He would go to his grave swearing that he saw the corners of her mouth peak upwards ever so slightly, though it was difficult to tell from where he was standing, and as quickly as he saw it she was back to being stern faced as ever.

The shuttle had now touched down and with baited breath they waited for their visitors to finally reveal themselves. The hatch facing them opened, and they were immediately met by three Turian officers all dressed in dark green uniforms.

Or at least he assumed they were officers.

The first to step forward had a number of strange golden rune like marks across his lapel which Sam assumed denoted rank. The Turian had white face paint which contrasted his dark brown face, an indication of his colony of birth though Sam had no hope in hell of figuring out which colony that was. Probably something with several flanging, nasal sounds he mused.

The Turian flanking his right wore a similar uniform, though there were noticeably less elaborate rune marks on his lapel, likely meaning that he was of lesser rank, much like Sam himself. He too had white face paint, though in a slightly different pattern to the first. However he as well also had noticeably dark brown skin. Perhaps he was a relative of the lead Turian?

Then again all Turians tended to look the same to him. Not to mention Salarians and Krogan and Vorcha…

The one on his left however was noticeably different to the other two. With emerald face paint and noticeably shorter head spikes on the back of his head, not to mention the rather _unique_ body proportions, this one appeared _slimmer_ when compared to the other two. As well as that his face seemed almost smoother or at least less rigid. Quite an unusual appearance for a Turian he thought, until suddenly the realisation hit him like a tonne of bricks.

 _Dear God that's a woman._

Thank Christ he had realised now and not later, boy would that have been a colossal embarrassment.

The lead Turian glanced around, taking in the sight of Colonel Shan, Sam himself, and the few marines that flanked the group, standing at attention. What was that look in his eye? Was he impressed? Dismissive? Indifferent? As with all aliens, Sam had an immensely difficult time deducing what he was thinking. Finally his gaze fixed on the Major, who stood directly in front of him. A flanging double-tonal noise rang out, and Sam realised that the Turian just spoke.

"I am Prefect Primilius Simplinus," He called out over the rumbling engines of the shuttle behind him. "Assigned by the Hierarchy to oversee this joint training exercise. With me are Captain Larrius Meltion," gesturing to his right, the Turian in question stood at attention, clicking his boots together "And Lieutenant Commander Aedilea Gariunus," who responded in kind. In all honesty, Sam had no idea exactly how high up a _Prefect_ was, but if the use of title caused any doubt of his legitimacy, the authoritative tone and confidence with which he spoke quashed it.

The Colonel and the Lieutenant inclined their heads in greeting, before the Colonel responded.

"Colonel Sarah Shan, I'll be your liaison and will also be leading the Alliance personnel. This is Lieutenant Samuel Chodkiewicz, my, for all intents and purposes, second. Welcome to _Campus Martius_ ," She held her hand out, and after a second's hesitation the prefect held out his hand and shook hers.

"My thanks Major, if you don't object could we get down to business?"

"Of course the sooner the better, there are some logistical matters we should address. If you'd follow me."

The Prefect nodded in agreement, and the Colonel turned on her heel and led the group away from the pad, and towards the complex of structures before them.

* * *

"The rest of the instructors from Palaven are due to arrive in a few hours, I assume your people are already prepared?" The prefect had asked.

"They are, the last of the instructors arrived yesterday," The Colonel replied.

They had arrived in the briefing room, located on the second floor of the main building. The room itself was rather spacious, with a large rectangular table in the centre which had an inbuilt holographic projector, which was currently in use presenting a map of the complex. They were currently huddled around said table, dealing with, what several lecturers Sam knew back on Earth referred to as _housekeeping._

"Good, good. The trainees are due to arrive tomorrow?"

"Yes, the last of the Alliance and Hierarchy cadets are due to arrive at about 1800,"

"Where will they be housed?"

Pointing to the map, she responded. "Right next to the complex are two prefab structures, they have been repurposed to be used as barracks, one Turian and the other Human,"

"What of medical facilities and…?"

The conversation droned on like so for the next ten minutes, with the Colonel gesturing to the map as she answered all manner of very important, and exceedingly dull, logistical questions. Sam found his eyes drifting towards their Turian guests, curiosity getting the best of him. Seldom did he have to work with them, and even rarer still did he ever get to get a good look at any of them.

Avian was the best way to describe them, with their plates and spikes resembling feathers, though thankfully they lacked a beak.

 _God would that be terrifying…_

They were quite tall he had noticed, easily taller than him though then again he was hardly the most imposing figure himself at only about 5'10.

 _Or was it 5'9? We'll round it up to 5'10._

The face paint was another key distinguisher, and perhaps the only means for him to tell them apart from one another. The Prefect's was white and arranged in a very angular fashion which seemed to compliment his features. The captain's however was noticeably more 'rounded.' Sam now doubted that the two were related as the patterns were all too different meaning it was unlikely they were from the same colony.

Which brought him to the third Turian.

Now she looked remarkably different from the males, as one might expect. For one thing, her head spikes were noticeably shorter, giving the back of her head a much more exposed look. Her face paint was done in three thick vertical lines down her face. As well as this she seemed more slender than the males, shapely was perhaps the wrong word, but she certainly seemed to be feminine in a weird way. Perhaps it was just the way she carried herself.

 _Dear God, if his grandfather could see him now…_

Something that all three had in common was the apparent absence of any facial expressions. Perhaps it was just the way their faces were structured, or it may have been a cultural thing, but asides from the occasional movement of mandibles as they spoke they betrayed no inkling of any emotion.

"…though I believe the Lieutenant will be of more help."

Alarm gripped him as he realised that he had suffered from an attention lapse.

"Oh, ah yes Ma'am?"

"Tactical training." She pressed, with no small level of annoyance in her voice.

His features reddened as he nervously straightened his coat, before addressing the Turians. "Oh yes, those, ahem. As agreed this part of the training will be divided into two parts; a lecture component in which myself and your tactical instructor will analyse current and past deployments and engagements and a practical component in which we will take the cadets into the woods surrounding this compound and hold _war games,_ to try and reinforce what we've covered _._ There are a few facilities in orbit that we can make use of if the need calls for it. _"_

Thankfully he was able to say all that without stuttering, and if the Turians were put off by his embarrassment they made no indication of it.

Though there was something that he wanted to know.

"May I ask whom will I be working with?"

"That would be me, Lieutenant." The Lt. Commander spoke for the very first time.

 _What was her name again? Aedalia! That was it._

Like all Turians her voice carried a double tonal effect, though with a slightly higher pitch and whilst he was by no means a linguistic expert, he could've sworn that she didn't sound too impressed.

"Oh, is this all agreeable to you then?"

She looked a bit to the side, weighing up the pros and cons in her mind, or so she seemed. "It should be… sufficient." She didn't sound too convinced.

 _Sufficient?_

"…and with that I believe our business is concluded for now," Simplinus' voice rang out.

Any retort that he would've produce died in his throat, perhaps for the best.

A brief look of annoyance flashed across the major's face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"If that is all, there are a few matters I need to address with my officers, if someone could show us to our quarters…?"

"Of course Prefect, you and your senior officers quarters are located on this floor down the hallway, I'll have someone show you the way. Private…?" She looked towards one of the marines accompanying them.

"Yes ma'am." The private nodded and proceeded to lead the Turian entourage out of the room.

The Prefect turned back to them just before he left.

"Colonel, Lieutenant." He nodded in their direction.

As the door slid shut behind them, the Colonel sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Mind telling me what that was all about?" She asked without looking up.

That caught him off guard. "Ma'am?"

Turning to face him now, she placed her hands on her hips, looking like a scornful mother before continuing. "You zoned out for a minute there. Do you have any idea how much of an embarrassment that was? You can't show any weakness around these _bird-faces,_ least of all when we have to answer to them."

Colour drained from his face and he stood at attention.

"Sorry ma'am, won't happen again."

"It better not."

He decided to press his luck.

"Permission to speak freely ma'am."

She arched an eyebrow. "Granted."

"I was under the impression that this would be more of a cooperative relationship."

The way she looked at him now you'd think that he had just wished dishonour on her family. And her cow.

"Lieutenant, if you stick three Krogan in a room with one Salarian, what do you think the odds are that the Krogan are going to care much for what the Salarian has to say?"

He felt rather sheepish at that, sighing. "Not a lot ma'am."

"Not a lot. Well the Turians are the Krogan, and we're the Salarian. They have a fleet ten times bigger than ours, and a history of naval combat thirty times longer. Hell the only reason they're even considering us right now is that we gave 'em a bloody nose almost thirty years ago."

"The Prefect seemed civil enough." He offered diplomatically.

She sighed. "Lieutenant, make no mistake, I've met plenty of Turians before. Oh this one may be making all the right noises now but mark my words, every Turian's got a stick up 'ere ass make no mistake,"

"Yes I've heard that charming turn of phrase before," He muttered under his breath.

Her eyes narrowed. "You giving me lip?"

"No ma'am!" He stiffened.

"I thought not. Now go down to the landing pad and make sure that Corporal Corey knows where to direct the rest of the Turians when they arrive."

Corporal Hector Corey had been assigned to _Campus Martius_ two weeks ago, an uncomplicated soldier he obeyed his orders. Not an unpleasant sort and whilst no Einstein he was no fool either.

"Dismissed." With that she waved him off.

With a crisp salute, he fled the room with his tail between his legs. Christ, given a choice between an angry Colonel Shan and a raging thresher maw…

Well suffice to say he'd be saving up for a ticket to Akuze.

* * *

Sam glanced at the time on his omni tool.

 _21:24_

After his escape from the clutches of Sarah Shan, he had found Hector and promptly ensured that he direct the rest of the Turian instructors towards the main building. After reporting that all was well to the Colonel, she then ordered him to do the rounds, inspect the facility, ensure that the Alliance personnel knew what to expect etc.

Usual mediocre crap.

The rest of the Turians arrived without a hitch and they were escorted to the main building where the rest of the officers' quarters were.

It was late by the time he had finished and he was well into his off-duty hours. Realising he had neglected to eat earlier, he decided to head to the mess hall, a large open room, located in the west wing of the main building. Upon arriving, he realised that he wasn't the only one with that idea. For whom did he find sitting there and busy munching away at his meal?

None other than Captain Larrius Meltion.

Sam grabbed a tray from the clerk who thankfully was still on duty, and after double checking that he didn't take a dextro-based tray, he decided to make his way over to where the Captain was sitting.

 _No sense in being rude._

He stood in front of the happily munching away Turian and cleared his throat softly. The Turian looked up at him mid-bite, seemingly not annoyed at his interrupted meal.

"Ah. Lieutenant Chod-,"

The Captain seemed genuinely stumped for a second.

 _Oh if only I had a camera…_

Indeed it was rare to find a normally _composed_ Turian appear as though they were at a loss.

"-hod, key- vis?"

"Chodkiewicz. _Hod-ki-e-vich,_ "

The Captain opened his mouth to attempt the name once more, but wavered halfway.

He decided to take pity on him. "You know what just call me Sam, don't worry, it happens all the time."

The Captain chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. Apparently that was a nervous tic common to multiple species. "My apologies Lieutenant Sam."

He laughed with him, "That's alright, anyway it's nice to meet you again Captain Meltion."

Meltion formed the Turian equivalent of a smile, mandibles flaring out ever so slightly.

Or at least he thought he was smiling.

"Well if I'm to call you Lieutenant Sam, then it's only fair that you call me Captain Larrius – please, join me." He gestured to the seat in front of him.

Sam sat down as Larrius continued. "If I might say so, it's a rather unique name you have."

"It's Polish, one of the nations back on Earth, well Lithuanian technically, eh it's a long story. Regardless, we like our hard to pronounce words." He picked at the food.

 _Huh, duck._

"Indeed," He chuckled. "Is that where your accent comes from as well?"

"No, the accent is actually Australian, yet another nation on Earth. The names are easier to pronounce there, but we like our alcohol nearly as much."

Larrius threw his head back in roaring laughter. It was quite jarring at first to witness, especially considering that Turians had a reputation for being so aloof.

Chuckling himself, he pressed on. "Though, Mum tells me I have the Slavic look. Whatever the hell that means."

"Ah yes, mothers. Mine insists that I resemble a Palaven-born. I never quite learned what that resemblance exactly was either."

Sam smiled, mostly at the absurdity of the situation. When he got up this morning, he certainly didn't expect to be eating with a Turian, let alone laughing with and trading stories. Larrius smiled also, looking to the side for a brief moment before turning back to him.

"Campus Martius," He spoke slowly, testing the name on his tongue. "Campus Martius, such an impressive name."

"Yes, the Field of Mars in Latin."

Larrius cocked his head to the side slightly, coaxing Sam forward. "This ancient civilisation on Earth, the Field of Mars would be the ground where their soldiers assembled before campaign."

"Ah! How very Turian of your people!"

It was Sam's turn to laugh and he did so with great mirth. He soon settled down but was struck by how _personable_ Larrius was. The captain had this certain charisma that Sam couldn't help but be drawn into.

"So a captain? Navy or ground forces?"

"Navy," The Turian happily offered. "I command the _Valour_ , a scout frigate for the 45th Flotilla. We're normally attached to the 18th Fleet. Actually, technically I wasn't even assigned here. I was just making sure my former 2nd officer was settled in."

"Your 2nd officer being…?"

"Lt. Commander Aedilia Gariunus."

 _Oh yeah, Miss 'Sufficient'…_

"Are you sorry to see her go?"

Larrius looked down at his food. "Yes and no. She's a good officer, perhaps one of the best that I've ever served with. Loves her weapons systems! She's always trying to improve herself and she'll leave, as you humans say, big trousers to fill?"

"Big shoes."

He looked up and smiled again. "But she's a career soldier and so where the Meritocracy decides she should go, she dutifully obeys."

"Yes, I wouldn't think many Turians would leap at the chance to work with Humans."

"Perhaps not, no," He lamented. "It's no secret of the, shall we say, rift between our two peoples. Difficult environment for any officer to traverse."

Sam agreed, and the pair continued to discuss all manner of things, Sam talking about life on Earth, while Larrius shared several anecdotes from his captaincy of the Valour.

They finished their meals swiftly and Larrius stood up to leave, Sam standing as well, for manners' sake.

"Well, it's been a pleasure Lieutenant Sam."

Larrius offered his taloned hand.

"Likewise, Captain Larrius."

Sam took it. Larrius smiled once more and then left him, to his food and to his thoughts.

* * *

 **Hope you enjoy what I've written so far! If you have any criticisms, please leave them in the reviews section, I'd love to take them on board and hopefully improve my writing.**


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